Like most small children, the powers of invention have not passed our three year old granddaughter by. She loves nothing more than writing the script ‘on the hoof’ and roping in all innocent by-standers, regardless of their acting ability.
She makes no distinction between dolls, relatives and imaginary beings. They are all constituent parts of a great cast in an epic production.
A couple of days ago, the scene was set for scaring the life out of a hapless doll called Tinkerbell. I wasn’t quite sure what my role was, so I asked the director for guidance. She waved a hand, which I took as an instruction to improvise. So I placed a tea towel over another doll’s head and moved towards Tinkerbell, making whoooohh, whooohing noises.
“What are you doing Grandad?”
“I’ve made a ghost, and it’s after Tinkerbell. Whooohhh.”
“Don’t be silly Grandad, we can’t have a ghost. We’re not in the jungle!”
Of course we weren’t. How silly of me. Back to drama class then.
Still Hanging On,
4 days ago